


His Touch

by Shierr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Mystery, Out of Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Slash sex, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shierr/pseuds/Shierr
Summary: A one-shot. A moment in time, a description of his touch. LV/HP WARNINGS: BDSM, sex, slash, dominance, bondage





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

The waiting was the hardest part. There was the longing, the yearning, the anticipation and the fear it would never come. His touch… His touch was all that I wanted, all I needed. The cold hands, the firm grip, the long fingers creating spider webs on my skin… I could hear him walking around me, close, yet oh so far away. He knew what he was doing, he avoided touching me, but he came close, so close. And then he went away, making me sag with disappointment. 

He was an expert in torture.

I could not track the movements of my master; he had blindfolded me. I could only listen, and hope. I felt his cold breath on my neck and I arched my back, fighting against the restraints on my wrists, binding me in place, trying to get closer to him. I let out a desperate breath I didn’t known I had been holding and he chuckled. The sound was music in my ears, like a rumbling thunderstorm, filled with light amusement. My need meant nothing to him.

I could still feel his presence behind me, he had not moved away. A lump seemed to form in my throat, I couldn’t breathe right, my world was swimming around me. Maybe my master would touch me…?

“What do you want, pet?”

The deep voice, like silky thunder washed over me, and my lips let out a whimper. My body was trembling all over; the anticipation was growing to be too much. My skin tingled, wishing, yearning for the touch that would make me scream, that would make me go over the edge. It was all too much, I could not focus on the question I had been asked, let alone form enough though to answer it.

My master walked away from me.

Suddenly my mind cleared as panic washed over me. I had disappointed him, he would not touch me now, I would not feel…

And then those cold, long fingers curled around my bared throat, gripping it tightly. I moaned at the touch, and the grip grew firmer.

“I asked you a question”, my master hissed, so very close to my face, his lips almost touching my own and I started to tremble again. The grip loosed around my throat and hurriedly I blurted out:

“You, my lord.”

I could imagine the smile curling on the lips of my master, the pleased look in his red eyes. The grip became a tender touch, a feathering caress and my mind was lost yet again. He slid his fingers down to my chest, leaving cold trails of pleasure behind. He was barely touching my burning skin with his fingertips and yet they felt heavy, they were like daggers piercing me. It had been so long since he had last touched me; it was hard to not loose it. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to go faster, go deeper, but I knew I would lose his touch if I did. I wanted to beg for it, but it was not yet time for that.

I swallowed, hard, as his fingers started roaming downwards. Ever downwards… I could not help the tiniest of whimpers that escaped my lips ad I bit the lower one hard. The jolt of pain distracted me enough so I could hold on to my mind for a while longer and I bit even harder. But an even greater jolt of pain made me cry out in pain and jerk backwards. He had pinched my nipples, leaving numbness behind as he released them.

“I want your mouth open, my pet”, he whispered into my ear, breathing cold air onto my hot skin, sending waves of pleasure over my body. “And all the marks on your body will be done by _me_.”

He bit me hard just above my collarbone, making me scream again. 

“You are mine.”

I could have killed to hear him say those three words. I did not need or want love. All I needed and wanted was to be his, to belong. The emotions I felt over those words almost made me cry. His fingers brushed my cheek swiftly, but tenderly, before going down, creating patterns around my bellybutton. And with every stroke, every feathery touch he brought me closer to the edge. I would have wanted him to take me, to fill me, but I could feel from the way he touched me that tonight was all about me.

And I basked in his attention.

He moved around me, walking in circles, his fingers never leaving my skin. The longer he touched me, the less control I had over myself. I moaned and whimpered constantly. Every nerve was on fire, seeking attention, tingling. It was hard not to beg for more. And then he started whispering into my ear.  
How beautiful I looked, tied up and helpless. How he enjoyed seeing me lose control merely from his touch. How he wanted to mark me, bite me, hurt me. To hear me beg for it.   
It was a storm of sensations, his cold feathery touch, his deep voice like silk, his mere presence. It was all too much and I could no longer hold it in.

“Please, my lord, give me more. I need more.”

It was a pitiful whimper, barely audible. It was hard to even form a coherent thought, but perhaps it was enough.

He ignored my plea.

A desperate sound escaped my throat and again I struggled against my restraints. He rewarded me with a hard slap across my butt cheeks. I yelped at the sharp pain it caused. As he moved around me, continuing to map my body, I gave out a sob. I slumped against the ropes and let them hold me up.

“Please…”, I whimpered over and over again, until I felt the cold hands wrap around my throat again. I gasped for air as anticipation bubbled inside me, making me light-headed. His other hand wandered down from my chest, across my belly and then he gripped my rock-hard erection tightly. I let out a loud moan. He moved his had painfully slowly, loosening the grip until I could barely feel it around me. He continued with the feathery touches up and down my shaft, drawing out moans and whimpers from me again. I felt his lips close to mine and I hoped he would kiss me. Even if it would only be a brief touch of his lips against mine, I could have died a happy man.

Suddenly he grabbed my erection tightly and started moving his hand faster. He brought his lips almost to mine and he whispered:

“Come for me, Potter.”

My world exploded. I could hear a distant scream of pleasure, but it was drowned by the pleasure, the wave of completeness and the sparks dancing across my mind. Everything stopped for the moment. There was only his touch, his lips against mine, his hand around my throat and the pleasure he gave me.

_You are mine_


End file.
